


Knowing Better

by AnotherLoser



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Drug Addiction, Post-Series, Recreational Drug Use, Stoners Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 16:20:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17247440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherLoser/pseuds/AnotherLoser
Summary: It built fairly slow. At the same time he wonders how he got here. Home for Christmas and itching for an escape so badly he went out into the woods with a little pink pill and a beer to wash it down.





	Knowing Better

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not continue this....Undetermined.

“…Hey, Scotty.”

College was and wasn’t what he expected. He works hard, he focuses on his classes, he trains a couple days a week, and he works on campus so he can put food in his mouth regularly. Most of his time gets eaten by obligation but the subjects were ones he enjoyed and the job wasn’t bad so he didn’t really have a problem with it.

When he did try to socialize it was a mixed bag- each interaction was like a coin toss on how it would go for him. There’s no dumb bullying and Stiles isn’t the only person around with ADHD but he is the only one who has looked death in the eye the way he has. The only one who knows about monsters and demons and humans that turn into wolves and girls who can hear death in an empty room. He’s the only one who says he wants to go into his career because he’s seen blood on his hands he didn’t have a choice about and wants to use them for something good instead.

He’s different. Some days he doesn’t even notice. Others he’s reminded of how out of place his own body really is.

Smoking weed helps, usually. When he’s feeling stuck and destructive he smokes and forgets that he had problems to begin with because he’s too focused on the pleasant warmth a good high covers him with and how much funnier king of the hill is than it would be if he were sober.

Sometimes weed is replaced with pills, because Stiles will try going to parties and either leave within an hour or end up in a surreal bubble on his own; hovering in a corner somewhere, watching all the party goers with a sort of melancholy but fearing the moment someone breaks into his moment of peace. It’s of course the latter in which someone will offer him something else. He always takes it.

He thinks he’s starting to get a reputation for it with a few guys in particular, because when Stiles was living like a recluse to prepare for a test someone knocked on his door to offer party favors of his own to do with as he wished. He recognized the guy from a few scenes, though he never got his name before, and only spoke directly to him once.

He said no that day, but kept the phone number.

Then he called a day and a half later.

To his credit, he made it through his first year of college before he got to this point. Everything was new and casual for a while, he was more focused on the goal than what to do with himself in the free time he had. Going home for holidays had honestly been a break for him and he told Scott about some of it while they smoked together after Thanksgiving dinner. It wasn’t until his second summer break was approaching he got that visit.

It built fairly slow. At the same time he wonders how he got here. Home for Christmas and itching for an escape so badly he went out into the woods with a little pink pill and a beer to wash it down.

Of course Scott only finds him after it’s kicked in and he’s decided to lay on the cold dirt rather than wander around and trip again.  
He wasn’t completely gone; he recognizes his friend, he knows where he is, he has the mind to sit up for their conversation. His eyes are unfocused though. The dirt was comfortable only because of the way the texture feels right now, and he’d find it caked under his nails later from how he dragged his fingers through it.

Scott touches his face, a frown on his own and his brow furrowed in either confusion or worry or both. Stiles isn’t worried. Scott’s hand feels nice on his skin, so he leans into it, eyes drooping and mouth still quirked up in a happy little smile.


End file.
